<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>All of Me by silvershadow666</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27769741">All of Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvershadow666/pseuds/silvershadow666'>silvershadow666</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frozen (Disney Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Useless Lesbians</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:08:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27769741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvershadow666/pseuds/silvershadow666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa has inherited her dead parents' company and is struggling to get through the layers of deceit and trickery that the board has woven in the years before she hit legal age to take over. Between trying to reconnect with Anna and hiding her powers as well as the other spirits, she might start to run into shady characters because the board is none too happy with her efforts. Which is how she meets Honeymaren, a slightly confused and very butch mechanic who happens to be present when a gang of thugs tries to take out Elsa, and who agrees to become her bodyguard under the guise of dating her.</p><p>Disclaimer: This is the first time ever that I try to write fanfiction and I only have a vague idea of where all this is supposed to go, so please be patient with me. I peg Elsa as somewhere on the ace spectrum, possibly demi, and meeting Honeymaren is going to make her deal with all that for the first time. I'm a sucker for touch-starvation and family fluff, both blood relations and chosen ones, so there'll be a lot of that as well. </p><p>This fic will include mild violence and maybe some steamy stuff later on, I hope I remember to put warnings into the appropriate sections. Again, bloody new to this thing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Unexpected turn of a Not So Nice night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mild warning for language and violence (nothing too explicit)</p><p>Yo, I hope this won't turn out an epic fail, but here goes nothing. Like I said, no idea how any of this works, hope I'll remember the warnings. I'll try to update every fortnight or so, but life has a way of derailing all of my plans, so I wouldn't rely on that too much. I've been having problems with the wifi for the last couple of months, which is kind of a bummer when university keeps alternating between on-campus and online classes. Sometimes the stress from that makes me wanna write for days on end, sometimes it sucks me completely dry. Depending on which way it goes there might be updates sooner than planned - or a lot later. Hope you guys enjoy those two as much as I do!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Honeymaren flew through the air and hit the ground with a thump. A grunt escaped her lungs and she rolled over, got back to her feet and attacked again. The wind got knocked out of her before she could land as much as a single blow.</p><p>
  <em>Good to know some things never change.</em>
</p><p>She kicked her feet up over her head to roll backwards, away from the still ongoing fight. Her fellow <em>budokas</em> were attacking their sensei with a swift, brutal pattern they had devised ever so carefully.</p><p>It failed spectacularly.</p><p>Honeymaren watched as her friend Ailani twisted in mid-air to land on her feet, stumbling a little. They exchanged a look and charged once again.</p><p>It was suicide.</p><p>By the time their sensei clapped, thus finishing the session, every single one of them was dripping with sweat. That is, every one except the sensei herself. Al looked as calm and put-together as always, her simple long braid barely ruffled and her breath even.</p><p>“You did good. The strategy you came up with was effective.”</p><p>Ailani snorted. The corner of Al’s lip kicked up. “I wouldn’t lie to you. It really was. Mei, would you like to lead the stretching?”</p><p>The slender Chinese woman bowed and took the sensei’s place in front of the group.</p><p>Honeymaren enjoyed the emptiness of her mind as her body flowed through the exercises designed to reduce muscle ache and stiffness. She knew it wouldn’t last forever. Her brother Ryder had once asked in confusion why anyone even bothered trying to fight Al. What was the sense in fighting someone who just wiped the dojo mats with your ass every time, not even breaking a sweat? Wasn’t it depressing to know from the start you couldn’t win?</p><p>Honeymaren had smiled and messed with his carefully styled hair until he threw stuff at her. How could she explain something she didn’t understand herself?</p><p>
  <em>It’s… comforting. Knowing that, even if I screw up, Al won’t laugh at me or throw me out. Because everyone else screws up just as much.</em>
</p><p>There was safety in knowing how far out of everyone’s league their sensei was. In a world full of uncertainty, this was one thing she could rely on.</p><p>“Oi, Mare! Wait up!”</p><p>Honeymaren slowed down to allow her friend to catch up. “I thought you were going out?”</p><p>Ailani smiled a little too innocent, a little too sweet. Alarms went of blaring.</p><p>“Ailani…”</p><p>“Just once!” her friend pleaded, the smile gone immediately. “C’mon. You won’t know if you like it if you never try!”</p><p>Honeymaren sighed. “I’m not going to a bar with you guys.”</p><p>Ailani rolled her eyes. The white of her eyeballs looked a bit scary in the dark face. “Aww, come on! It’s a lesbian bar, for fuck’s sake!”</p><p>Honeymaren clamped down the hint of longing in her chest. “I don’t see how that’s important.”</p><p>Of course she did. But her reasons, she told herself sternly, were still the same. She didn’t have time for another unrequited crush that came with all the painful pining and crying herself to sleep. Nope, thank you very much. “I need to go, Lani. Have fun!”</p><p>She gave her friend a quick smile and lengthened her stride, effectively leaving her behind. It wouldn’t have worked if Ailani had been persistent, of course; the woman was a freaking panther who ran marathons for fun. But apparently some sort of God or Fate or whatever was smiling down on her benevolently for a change, because Ailani left her be.</p><p>Honeymaren tried to ignore the dissapointment inside.</p><p>
  <em>You told her to fuck off. She’s a decent human being and does you a favour by complying.</em>
</p><p>And Ailani kept trying to help. She seemed to sense that Honeymaren wasn’t happy and she… well, she tried to help. Wasn’t her fault that her efforts were useless.</p><p>Honeymaren turned down the alleyway, the duffelbag with her <em>gi</em> slung carelessly over her shoulder. When she had first started taking lessons at Al’s dojo, her aunt had insisted on someone escorting her to and fro. Which had annoyed the hell out of teenage-her and sparked more than one argument when she’d dumped whoever had been unlucky enough to land that job, but adult her could see why her aunt had been concerned. They weren’t exactly in the wealthy parts of town. More like the exact opposite, to be honest.</p><p>A pang of pain shot through her chest when she saw the sign for a small restaurant to her right. It featured a huge, pink lily.</p><p>
  <em>Why can’t I be good enough? </em>
</p><p>She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat.</p><p>
  <em>Just forget about it and get back to work, stupid. </em>
</p><p>She knew where the keys to the garage were. She couldn’t work on anything big, not on any stuff that required heavy machinery or something, but there was always stuff to prepare. The others probably wouldn’t even notice in the morning, and her boss had gotten used to her antics.</p><p>The rational part of her brain sighed and tried to tell her that she should probably get some sleep, not work through the night. Honeymaren acknowledged that part and changed direction. Maybe walking all the way to work would tire her out enough that she’d just give up somewhere along and go home to her little flat. It would be healthier than working through another night, she knew that. She also knew that the success rate for this plan was very low. Maybe…</p><p>A group of people caught her attention. Honeymaren wasn’t immediately sure why – they looked like any other bunch of guys out for a night of fun.</p><p>Except they weren’t drinking. They weren’t talking too loudly, either.</p><p>Honeymaren found herself following without any idea why. Or maybe she did have an idea but hoped to be wrong. She nearly managed to convince herself that she was making things up, that they were headed for one of the few pubs around here – <em>yet why were they here, the only other people apart from her, in an area that didn’t see much traffic at any given time and less so during the night?</em></p><p>She knew, rationally, that she was being stupid. The chances that those guys would encounter a lone passenger, even if they were looking for trouble, were…</p><p>A flash of white further down the street, one of the guys not-so-subtly nudging another. Honeymaren’s throat was suddenly too dry.</p><p>A woman.</p><p>A woman in a designer coat that screamed of money, all alone in this not-very-nice area of town, seemingly oblivious of <em>the fucking group of grown-ass men headed towards her! </em></p><p>Honeymaren’s pulse sped up as she walked faster, fingers clenching around her duffel bag.</p><p>
  <em>This can’t be happening. </em>
</p><p>The woman’s eyes were on the ground, unfocused, lost in deep thought as she kept walking towards the group of men. Honeymaren fought the urge to raise her voice, to warn her, because that wasn’t the smartest thing to…</p><p>
  <em>Oh my fucking God, is she wearing heels?! </em>
</p><p>She was closing in on the men fast now, still sticking to the shadows. Her dark clothes helped, not like that woman who seemed to be dressed entirely in cream and pastel white, her hair so blonde it looked nearly white as well, just like her skin.</p><p>She stood out like a snowman in summer.</p><p>One of the men made a not-so-subtle gesture and got quiet snickers from his friends. They didn’t laugh out loud, though.</p><p>The alarms in Honeymaren’s head went off even more, blaring and red.</p><p>The pale woman met with the men. She stepped onto the street to let them pass, but of course they weren’t interested in passing. One of them reached out to grab her.</p><p>Honeymaren broke into a sprint. She saw the woman looking up, eyes widening in shock as she suddenly registered the group of men swiftly surrounding her.</p><p>Honeymaren swung her duffel. It connected with a man’s skull with a very satisfying thunk. Honeymaren swivelled and took down the next one, knowing she had only seconds before the surprise wore off and her only advantage was gone.</p><p>
  <em>Seven against one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, fuck, fuck! </em>
</p><p>She was no freaking warrior like Al. Yes, they did simulate situations like this for practice, but nothing could have prepared her for that rush of adrenaline and pure terror.</p><p>Honeymaren felt someone grab her arm and threw them – him – without so much as a thought. There was yelling and surprised shouting and someone shrieked and Honeymaren swung her duffel and kicked and – belatedly remembering another lesson – let out a hoarse roar.</p><p>The man in front of her stumbled backwards. Someone grabbed her hair, pulled her into a chokehold, and years of training kicked in.</p><p>Later, Honeymaren would think that this was the moment she realized why Al made them repeat certain moves over and over and over again. Why she insisted on practising “spontaneous” attacks that basically consisted on people grabbing or attacking them in whichever way they wanted, all in a safe and controlled environment, of course. This moment was when she understood the full meaning of body memory. Something cracked and the pressure around her waist was suddenly gone.</p><p>“Shit! Shit, Johnny, get up! Johnny!”</p><p>Honeymaren avoided another punch and landed one herself. She grabbed the outstretched arm and used it for leverage in a way that elicited another scream. From the corner of her eye she could see that there were several men on the ground. The one that had tried to grab her from behind wasn’t moving. The others were scrambling to get away, staring at her wide-eyed.</p><p>Honeymaren was too high on adrenaline and panic to fully register the looks on their faces. She bared her teeth at another guy – how many of them were there? When had she lost track of them?</p><p><em>Always keep track of who’s around you</em>, Al’s voice boomed through her mind. <em>Unless you want to get stabbed in the back!</em></p><p>The guy blanched and stumbled back.</p><p>It took Honeymaren a moment to realize he was running away. They were running away.</p><p>“Ex… Excuse me?”</p><p>Honeymaren whirled around, for a splitsecond sure that she was about to get docked in the nose. Instead, she found herself face to face with the most beautiful woman she had ever met.</p><p>“Thank you for saving me, I believe.”</p><p>Brilliantly blue eyes found hers and Honeymaren lost the ability to speak.</p><p>“I… err… huh?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hot Chocolate and an Ice Queen not used to sugar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Poor Elsa mistakes her blossoming attraction for aftereffects of the shock. (#babygay)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so updating every two weeks was a bit ambitious. Uni is going craaazy at the moment! And I still have no wifi, so I missed like half my classes over the last two weeks. Yay! Also Christmas is coming up, which makes me giddy and sad at the same time; another year has flown by and I've changed so freaking much, but nobody seems to notice. I am definitely NOT using this fanfic to project my emotional turbulence on fictional characters (:<br/>Have fun with Elsa and Maren, I know we're moving slow, but I promise there is fluff to come. And a lot of baby gay panic when Elsa realizes it's *not* the shock, it's called attraction...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Elsa had rolled out of bed after another fitful night that morning, she hadn’t expected to end the day by nearly getting robbed. She looked at her even more unexpected saviour and fought past the weird sensation in her stomach. Why did she feel so… so…?</p><p>Her fingers clenched around her upper arms and she realized the temperature around them was dropping. Glad for the thin gloves she was wearing, she forced her powers to calm down.</p><p>
  <em>Conceal. Don’t feel. </em>
</p><p>Anna hated it when she did that. Elsa did her best to put on a smile whenever her sister was around, tried not to get into situations that required her to fall back on the mantra so deeply engrained in her brain. Her sister thought that, after realizing that the key to her powers were the emotions she always tried to suppress, Elsa could just throw away her control and go with the flow.</p><p>The woman who had saved her cleared her throat, not looking at Elsa directly. It made Elsa want to flinch.</p><p>
  <em>I should be used to people being scared of me by now.</em>
</p><p>Even though nobody but Anna and her boyfriend, Kristoff, knew about her powers, people got uncomfortable whenever the magic surged up inside her. As if they could subconsciously sense the danger.</p><p>Elsa felt the magic buck and swell inside her, as if provoked by her saviour’s refusal to look at them.</p><p><em>You didn’t even thank her properly, </em>she chided herself, ruthlessly pulling up the walls that kept her magic contained. <em>She put her life on the line for you!<br/>
</em>The idea was… stunning, in lack of a better word. Elsa wasn’t sure why anyone would do such a thing, especially for her. Well, apart from Anna, who was her sister and also a little crazy. In a very adorable and admirable way.</p><p>“I apologize for the inconvenience. I…”<br/>
She spotted a red line on the woman’s face and faltered. “You’re hurt.”<br/>
The weird feeling intensified the longer she looked at the stranger. Her features looked… Asian? No, not Asian. Native? Loose clothes, the duffelbag that the stranger had used as a weapon dangling from her arm as if she’d completely forgotten it existed, despite the fact that the thing had to be quite heavy. Elsa had seen the momentum with which it had hit the men. The one thing Elsa’s eyes seemed drawn to, however, was the woman’s haircut. Pulled up in a loose bun, tendrils escaping after the fight, it revealed that the lower third of it was shaven, with a complicated pattern cut into the stubble. Elsa thought she had seen this kind of style on the news before, but she couldn’t quite remember the name. Lower cut? No, undercut!</p><p>Her stomach rolled as if she’d stepped aboard a ship. She felt queasy.</p><p>It had to be shock.</p><p>She realized she was staring and averted her eyes. It took considerable effort – for some reason, the woman’s haircut was utterly fascinating.</p><p>“Are you?”</p><p>Elsa raised a brow, instinctively clenching her fingers tighter around her arms. The woman’s voice was low, a little husky, and she finally looked at Elsa.</p><p>Elsa blinked. “Am I what?”<br/>
“Hurt.”</p><p>The woman raised a hand – and stared at the duffelbag dangling from it, utter confusion on her face. She blinked and carelessly slung it over her shoulder, slightly shaking her head. “Sorry. Are you hurt? Did they touch you?”</p><p>It took all the years of practise that Elsa had not to gape at her. Somehow, though, she managed.</p><p>“No, I’m not. You, however, have a gash on your cheek.”</p><p>The woman blinked and touched her face. “Oh. Huh.”</p><p>She didn’t seem to concerned. Then again, for all that Elsa knew, she could be doing this on a regular basis. Saving random passers-by from thugs.</p><p>She wasn’t sure what the protocol said for a situation like this. There was a protocol for every kind of situation, different ways of acting in order to achieve one’s goals, but Elsa was completely out of her depth with… this.</p><p>The woman cast a glance over her shoulder and made a vague gesture. “We should probably leave. They might come back.”</p><p>Elsa kind of hoped they would. She wanted…</p><p>
  <em>Don’t want. Just do your duty. </em>
</p><p>Yet that red line poked her powers with a stick. Daring, taunting, making fun of her.</p><p>What kind of monster was she that she couldn’t even protect herself?”<br/>
A warm hand on her back shocked her out of her mind. Elsa flinched away, old habits dying hard – <em>don’t, I’ll hurt you!</em></p><p>The woman quickly lowered her hand. “Sorry. I… uh, which way do you live?”</p><p>Elsa turned – and faltered.</p><p>
  <em>Where exactly am I?</em>
</p><p>She hadn’t paid much attention to the way when she’d headed out for a walk, too busy fighting the demons in her head. Music helped, sometimes. Today had been a fairly good day. She’d been able to lose herself in melodies and song.</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, you lost yourself alright. </em>
</p><p>Elsa raised her chin, unwilling to show the embarrassment she felt. “Close to Morrigan Square.”</p><p>The stranger nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”</p><p>When Elsa didn’t fall into step with her, too busy with staring – what <em>was </em>it with her and staring at this woman? – she stopped again. “Are you okay? I won’t follow you home or something if you’re worried about that. I’d just rather not leave you on your own out here.”</p><p>Why did she sound so apologetic?</p><p>Elsa lightly shook her head, confused to no end. “I don’t. Sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself – I’m… Elsa. I didn’t catch your name, though.”</p><p>The woman rubbed her neck, looking anywhere but at Elsa. “I, uh, Mare. I mean, my name is Honeymaren.”</p><p>
  <em>Honeymaren.</em>
</p><p>Elsa rolled the name around on her tongue like a rare delicatesse.</p><p>
  <em>Honeymaren.</em>
</p><p>She remembered, a little late, that she was supposed to be walking. “Please lead the way, Honeymaren.”</p><p> </p><p>They were walking past a midnight diner when Honeymaren cleared her throat. “How about a late night snack?”</p><p>Elsa followed her eyes to the window of the diner. <em>Sweet Tooth, </em>the name sign read. And underneath: <em>Sugar shock inducing deliciousness for everyone!</em></p><p>Elsa knew it was stupid. The responsible decision would be to return home straight away and go to bed. She would be tired enough as it was.</p><p><em>But Honeymaren saved my life,</em> a tempting voice whispered inside her mind. Her powers stirred at the memory. <em>The least I can do is buy her a meal.</em></p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>They were greeted by a gush of warm air. Honeymaren smiled at her and Elsa faintly wondered how long it would take for the shock to subside. Her knees felt weak.</p><p>They reached a table in the back and Honeymaren absentmindedly pulled out a chair for Elsa. Elsa gratefully sank down, too used to the gesture to think about it twice.</p><p>It should come to her hours later, making her sit up straight in bed and wonder why this woman showed her such curtesy when she didn’t know about Elsa’s family or her status.</p><p>“Hi guys, how can I help you?”</p><p>A cheery waitress flicked open her notepad, the gray in her hair streaked with bright pink and purple. Her face showed a myriad of laughter lines.</p><p>Honeymaren glanced at Elsa and quietly pushed a menu over. “I’ll have a hot chocolate and the banana crêpes, please. Can you give us some additional water?”</p><p>The waitress beamed at them. “Of course, sweetie!”</p><p>Elsa nearly choked. How could anyone look at Honeymaren and call her <em>sweetie?</em></p><p>She looked down on the menu before she could say anything impolite. Having no idea what exactly the dishes were apart from the fact that most of them seemed to involve chocolate, she picked the next best thing. “The Caramel Cup, please. And the Sugarshock Wrap.”</p><p>She was quite fond of dessert. Her and Anna’s cook, however, considered sugar to be a deathly sin, which meant it was reserved for holidays and special occasions.</p><p>Anna had taken it upon herself to convince the cook of more and more holidays to celebrate. The two were currently fighting over Earth’s Rotation Day.</p><p>Elsa found her gaze straying back to the woman in front of her. In the warm light of the diner, she could see the swirls and lines on the lower half… no, more like the lower quarter of her hair. They looked like… tribal signs?</p><p>Honeymaren quirked a brow at her and Elsa realized she’d been staring. <em>Again.</em></p><p>“I apologize.”</p><p>Honeymaren blinked. “Huh? What for?”</p><p>Before Elsa could explain, the other woman gave her a slightly lopsided smile. The sight was unnerving. “How do you feel? Is the shock wearing off?”</p><p>Elsa averted her eyes. She neatly folded her fingers and pretended to focus on the multitude of lines in the wood underneath her hands. There were initials carved into it, as well as doodles and…</p><p>Elsa felt her cheeks heaten and looked away. Why would anyone draw a… a <em>penis </em>into the surface of a coffee table?!</p><p>Honeymaren chuckled quietly. “It’s not exactly a highend place, I know.”</p><p>Elsa realized the other woman had followed her gaze. She used her powers to cool her blood, embarrassed at being caught. “I presume one ought to… acknowledge the creativity.”</p><p>Honeymaren burst out laughing. The sound was a shock to Elsa’s system – she sat and stared, hypnotised by sound and sight.</p><p>
  <em>How…?</em>
</p><p>The waitress arrived with two big cups, a bottle of water and two glasses. Elsa blinked and straightened, realizing with confusion that she had started to lean forward a little.</p><p>“Hot chocolate for you, Mare, and a Caramel Cup for your pretty date.”</p><p>The waitress winked at Elsa. Her smile widened when Elsa politely thanked her for the beverage. “Ooh, I like this one! Don’t mess up with her, will you?”</p><p>Elsa was too busy to stare at the huge cup of… froth and cream and glittery somethings to pay attention to the words.</p><p>
  <em>Are those things edible?</em>
</p><p>Her eyes flickered over to the cup in front of Honeymaren. There was cream on it, too, and small pink-and-white <em>things</em> sprinkled atop of the cream. Honeymaren used a spoon to scoop some of it into her mouth – <em>edible, then</em> – and suddenly Elsa found herself at Honeymaren’s mouth.</p><p>“You should eat something, even if you’re not hungry. The sugar’s good for your system. Will make the shock pass quicker.”</p><p>Elsa lightly shook her head and reached for her spoon. “Yes. I’m… a little beside myself.”</p><p>Though why she was still so shook, she didn’t know. Surely she had survived worse than an attempted mugging already? Yet even when she’d thought her little sister dead, frozen by her own powers, she hadn’t felt like… <em>this.</em></p><p>
  <em>How peculiar.</em>
</p><p>Elsa carefully mimicked Honeymaren’s action, making sure to scoop up only a small bite.</p><p>
  <em>Surely it won’t be too bad. Sugar can’t taste…</em>
</p><p>The sprinkled cream hit her taste buds and she forgot about the diner, the mugging, even Honeymaren.</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So this is a sugar rush. </em>
</p><p>No wonder cook never let them have much dessert. Elsa could very much picture herself refusing to eat anything but this creation for the rest of her life.</p><p>Honeymaren cleared her throat. “I take it you’ve never had a Caramel Cup before?”</p><p> </p><p>Honeymaren was watching Elsa a little concerned by the time they left the small diner. She’d had to swap meals with Elsa – apparently, the Caramel Cup had only been an appetizer compared to a Sugarshock Wrap, and Elsa hadn’t even been able to finish her cup.</p><p>
  <em>Too much sugar. </em>
</p><p>She would do it again in an instant. Her nerves were jittery and on edge and she had to force herself to walk slowly, <em>normally,</em> instead of running and jumping like a madwoman. Suddenly her powers held a near irresistible appeal – what would happen if she’d shoot a blaze of ice down the street? She knew how to ride her ice. It would go super-fast.</p><p>Elsa curled her hands into fists to stop herself. The magic was tingling in her fingertips, eager to get out. She had trouble keeping up her usual calm and collected façade.</p><p>
  <em>This street is going a little downhill. I bet I could go faster than a car with a little…</em>
</p><p>“Elsa?”</p><p>She whirled around and looked at Honeymaren, eyes wide. Honeymaren bit her lip, trying not to laugh. She pointed into the opposite direction. “Morrigane Square is this way.”</p><p>“Of course.” Elsa raised her chin. Honeymaren bit down a little harder on her lip.</p><p>They walked in silence, but Elsa’s mind was buzzing with questions.</p><p>“Why did you help me?”<br/>
Honeymaren flinched at the sound of Elsa’s voice. She had her hands stuffed into the pockets of her hoodied top, duffel swaying gently with her confident stride. “Huh? Oh. I figured those guys were looking for trouble, so I followed them.” She shrugged. “Guess my gut was right.”</p><p>That didn’t answer Elsa’s question, but there were too many new ones to follow up on it. “May I ask what the symbols in your hair mean?”</p><p>She bit her lip the moment the question was out, horrified at her bluntness. Honeymaren cast her a quick, surprised glance. “Most people don’t realize they mean something.”</p><p>Elsa wanted to bury herself in ice and never come out again. “I apologize. That was incredibly rude.”<br/>
Honeymaren smiled. It made her face look softer, nearly… gentle. “It’s alright. Trust me, I’ve heard far worse.”</p><p>Elsa didn’t like the sound of that. Before she could ask, though, Honeymaren said: “We’re here. Morrigane Square. Do you want me to stay here or see you off to your place?”</p><p>Elsa didn’t miss the elegant swerve around what had to be a personal topic. Mortified by herself, she inclined her head in gratitude. “I’ll be alright. Thank you for your heroic rescue tonight.”</p><p>Did she imagine it or was the other woman blushing? It was hard to tell in the dim light of the streetlamps. “No worries. Be safe.”</p><p>“I will. Goodbye.”</p><p>Elsa felt a strange sense of reluctance when she turned away. Maybe she could invite Honeymaren into her home? She had saved her, after all.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t be stupid. She’s probably glad to finally be rid of you. Plus, it’s two o’clock in the morning. </em>
</p><p>Her feet felt heavy nonetheless.</p><p>
  <em>Why did I have to put my foot in my mouth with that question? Why, why, why?</em>
</p><p>Her fingers searched for her headphones in the coat’s pockets.</p><p>
  <em>Please tell me I didn’t lose them. </em>
</p><p>At least her phone was still there.</p><p>
  <em>I should have asked for her number. I do owe her, after all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe I should go back?</em>
</p><p>Her feet were slowing down already. Still arguing with herself, Elsa looked up at the sound of leaves rustling.</p><p>Two burly men were striding towards her, eyes scanning her distinctive hair and coat.</p><p>
  <em>You’ve got to be joking. </em>
</p><p>Power pulsed at Elsa’s fingertips. It was too much, too raw, to let go – she instinctively pulled back, fought against the magic.</p><p>
  <em>Conceal, don’t feel!</em>
</p><p>She couldn’t betray her secret! She couldn’t…</p><p>“Hey, doll.”</p><p>She’d have to use her magic to defend herself. She was no physical match for either of those men, let alone both of them at the same time.</p><p>Dark tendrils of fear snaked up on her, razor sharp hooks using her spine to crawl upwards. The ice inside her lost its brilliant hue of blue. Elsa tasted bitterness on her tongue and knew.</p><p>Her magic wanted to hurt. Maim. <em>Kill.</em></p><p>“Stay away.”</p><p>She took a step back, trying to calm herself down.</p><p>
  <em>Your emotions are the key. Your emotions…</em>
</p><p>One of the men bared his teeth in a grin. The dark light in his eyes made her ice buck and thrash, trying to get out.</p><p>Trying to attack.</p><p>
  <em>No. I can’t show my hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Conceal. Don’t feel. Conceal, don’t feel, conceal, don’t feel…</em>
</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>A loud shout made the men look up. Elsa clenched her fists, nails biting her skin with the effort to hold back.</p><p>
  <em>Concealdon’tfeelconceal…!</em>
</p><p>She recognized the voice, of course. She’d heard it not too long ago, when she’d been in exactly the same situation.</p><p>Honeymaren yelled something at the men and swung her wonderful duffelbag again. “Get… away… from her!”</p><p>
  <em>I’ve never appreciated how versatile those bags are.</em>
</p><p>Her breath came out as a cloud, telling her she’d lowered the temparature around them several degrees. The magic was still shoving at her to be released, but the darkness was turning to blue once more. Running footsteps returned her attention to her surroundings – both attackers were fleeing, with Honeymaren yelling something very creative after them. Her bun had suffered from the fight; it was hanging dangerously low to one side of her head when she looked at Elsa.</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>Elsa didn’t dare open her hands. She forced herself to nod, once.</p><p>“Let’s go inside.”</p><p>
  <em>What just happened?</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Giant Kitchen and a Questionable Idea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning for language (I don't think it's too explicit, but Honeymaren swears a little) and implication of physical assault and abuse (when Honeymaren realizes what could have happened if she hadn't been there to help)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Honeymaren wasn’t sure what exactly was happening.</p><p>
  <em>This definitely beats slaving away at the garage, though.</em>
</p><p>She followed Elsa through an ancient looking metal gate, a piece of art flanked by lion statues atop massive stone pillars. The fence was overgrown but huge as well – nobody could just walk into this garden.</p><p>The driveway leading up to what looked like a small palace was immaculately clean and clear cut. The entire place screamed of money.</p><p>A breeze whirled through the adjacent trees, rustling fallen leaves on the ground and playing with Elsa’s long hair. Honeymaren thought it nearly felt like a hand caressing her cheek.</p><p>
  <em>Must be the adrenaline and exhaustion. I’m starting to sprout poetic shit. </em>
</p><p>Elsa briskly strode towards the small palace. There wasn’t a lot to do other than to follow her, so that’s what Honeymaren did.</p><p>Or at least that was what she kept telling herself while desperately trying not to ogle the swaying hips in front of her.</p><p>
  <em>But damn, what an ass.</em>
</p><p>Her cheeks heated at the thought. Ogling was stupid and an awful thing to do. The last thing this woman needed after a night like this was more objectification. Plus, judging by their surroundings and her entire appearance, Honeymaren would have bet her Honda that the woman was as straight as a doornail. Probably even a homophobe.</p><p>
  <em>Thank God she didn’t hear Maria’s comment about being my date. </em>
</p><p>She made a mental note to never again take a woman into a place where people knew her. It would prove a difficult task seeing as she’d worked in probably half the coffee shops and bars of this entire fucking town before, but it wasn’t like she had dates lining up anyway.</p><p>
  <em>And I’m perfectly fine with that.</em>
</p><p>To her surprise, Elsa turned to the right instead of climbing the ginormous stairs that led to the main entrance – <em>is that marble?!</em> She stopped and revealed an old wooden door, its colour so like the stone that Honeymaren wouldn’t have noticed it on her own. A key clicked softly and Elsa pulled the door open. “Please, come in.”</p><p>
  <em>This night keeps getting weirder and weirder.</em>
</p><p>For some incomprehensible reason, Honeymaren was starting to enjoy it.</p><p>They were in a… kitchen? Yes, definitely a kitchen, but not the kind you’d find in a normal home. This was a place where an entire team could work together to create artwork with food. Honeymaren’s eyes widened as her gaze travelled over the interior and the appliances, a perfect blend of charming antique and sleek modernity.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, wow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I guess Elsa really likes to cook.</em>
</p><p>The blonde didn’t seem to notice Honeymaren ogling her kitchen. She took off her coat and strode towards the other end of the kitchen, heels clicking on the floor.</p><p>Honeymaren shook her head and tried to get her mind back to work.</p><p>“Those guys were waiting for you.”<br/>
Elsa whirled around, hands raised in defense. She froze to the spot when she saw Honeymaren, quickly wrapping her arms around herself. Her face was horrified.</p><p>
  <em>Shit. So much for subtlety.</em>
</p><p>“I’m sorry” Honeymaren hurried to say. “I didn’t mean to… I’m glad you’re okay.”</p><p>She looked around. “Do you happen to have a bottle of whiskey down here? Or schnaps. Just a shot of something – it’ll help with the shock.”<br/>
Elsa blinked. Her expression faltered. “I…”</p><p>Honeymaren scanned the cupboards and storage facilities and steered towards the most promising one.</p><p>“Bingo.”</p><p>It took her two tries to find shot glasses, but when she poured a shot for Elsa, the woman accepted it wordlessly.</p><p>
  <em>Mission accomplished.</em>
</p><p>The blonde glanced at Honeymaren – and knocked back the shot. Her face reddened, but she didn’t cough. Honeymaren tried very, <em>very </em>hard to not find that endearing.</p><p>
  <em>I’m not gonna fall, I’m not gonna fall…</em>
</p><p>This woman was way out of her league. She was too beautiful, too rich, too classy. Which meant she probably had a shitty personality. Which in turn meant that Honeymaren shouldn’t get involved emotionally, because she’d only end up hurt.</p><p>Or maybe she had an amazing personality, which would further catapult her out of Honeymaren’s league.</p><p>
  <em>All of which means I’m most likely gonna fall for her just out of principle. Fuck.</em>
</p><p>“You’re right.”</p><p>Honeymaren jumped and banged her head on the open cupboard above. She swallowed a curse.</p><p>“Oh, God, are you hurt? I’m so sorry!”</p><p>Honeymaren tried not to pull a face. “It’s okay. Uh, you… you were saying?”</p><p>The other woman didn’t seem convinced but let it drop. “You’re right. They must have waited for me.”</p><p>
  <em>Right. Not everyone’s as easily distracted as I am. </em>
</p><p>“Crazy ex?”</p><p>Elsa blinked. “Pray excuse?”</p><p>Honeymaren felt her cheeks heat up. She shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, avoiding the other woman’s glance. “I, uh, I was trying to think of who might want you harm.”</p><p>Elsa thoughtfully tapped her chin as if she was contemplating whether to have red or white wine for dinner, not thinking about who might want to mug and possibly abduct or kill her.</p><p>Honeymaren grew cold when the realization fully sank in.</p><p>
  <em>Shit. If I hadn’t been there…</em>
</p><p>She’d heard too many horror stories. Some from friends. Some about family members.</p><p>“They were probably interested in money. Or trying to push the company.”</p><p>
  <em>She’s way too calm about this.</em>
</p><p>A horrifying thought occurred to Honeymaren. “Has something like this happened before?”</p><p>Elsa glanced at her. “Yes. Of course.”</p><p>
  <em>Of course?</em>
</p><p>Her face must’ve given something away because Elsa made a vague gesture. “As CEO of Ragnar Enterprises, I’m bound to be targeted every once in a while. People don’t realize…”</p><p>Her voice trailed off. Honeymaren fought the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake. “What? They don’t realize <em>what</em>?”</p><p>She was going too fast, investing into a person who wouldn’t waste a second thought on her after they’d go their separate ways. Honeymaren could stop it as much as she could stop a landslide with her bare hands.</p><p>“I think I know what they want.” Elsa’s voice was soft, but Honeymaren could see steel glint in her eyes. “And they won’t get that. I’ll see to it.”</p><p>
  <em>That’s all nice and well, but…</em>
</p><p>“And how do you intend to keep them – whoever <em>they </em>are – from sending more and more people after you until someone finally succeeds? What if something goes wrong and you get hurt?”</p><p>
  <em>Really hurt?</em>
</p><p>Honeymaren had no clue if Elsa was aware of how close she’d gotten to physical assault that night. Because no matter what those mysterious <em>they </em>wanted, those thugs had had ideas of their own.</p><p>
  <em>How much does an upper class white girl know about the real world? </em>
</p><p>The simple fact that Elsa had been roaming the streets at that time, dressed like this, headphones in and completely oblivious to her surroundings… well, it spoke volumes.</p><p>
  <em>This woman needs a keeper. </em>
</p><p>“You need someone to watch your back” she said instead. “Someone you can trust. Ideally someone who can handle a few thugs, too.”</p><p>Elsa pressed her fingertips together and lightly tapped her chin. “Showing up with a bodyguard would look suspicious.” She hiccuped. “Oh. I apologize.”</p><p>
  <em>Not falling, not falling, not falling…</em>
</p><p>Honeymaren looked around, trying to distract herself and stay on course. “You could pretend to be dating your bodyguard. Uh, that is… unless there’s already someone in your life?”<br/>
Pale skin turned pink and Honeymaren’s fight got so much harder. “Oh. Oh, no. I haven’t…”</p><p>Honeymaren wordlessly poured her another drink and put the bottle away, anything to keep her hands occupied and her eyes on something other than the otherworldly beautiful woman in whose kitchen she stood.</p><p>
  <em>Get your shit together, Maren! You can’t save everyone. She’s rich enough to afford an entire army of her own. Why are you still hanging around? Why…</em>
</p><p>“You think I could use the ruse of… dating someone to distract people from my actions?”</p><p>“And keep you safe” Honeymaren felt compelled to point out. Had she ever met someone with such blatant disregard towards their own safety?</p><p>
  <em>I don’t think so. </em>
</p><p>“Yes, of course.” There was a distant look on Elsa’s face, as if she was running scenarios through her head. “All I need is a few more weeks. A month or two at the most.”</p><p>Honeymaren didn’t know what to do with herself. She crossed her arms and winced when her duffel clunked against a kitchen island. “Sorry!”</p><p>Elsa waved away her apology, quickly pulling back her hand when she realized what she was doing. “I don’t presume you are looking for a job?”<br/>
Honeymaren chuckled, glad that her face usually didn’t show it when she blushed.</p><p>“Working as your bodyguard pretending to be your girlfriend? Sure, why not?”<br/>
<em>Not a homophobe, then.</em></p><p>She didn’t have any reason to feel so giddy about it, but she could be proud of her teasing tone. Elsa was right to make fun of her – she’d thrown herself into not one but two fights like some weird-ass fairy tale prince this night.</p><p>“Really? Your family wouldn’t mind?”</p><p>Honeymaren tried to imagine Aunt Yelena’s face if she’d actually bring home a girlfriend. Her lips twitched. Her brother would tease her til the end of days, of course.</p><p>“As long as I bring home money and don’t partake in too many illegal activities, my people are chill.”</p><p>
  <em>Or get into trouble with the police.</em>
</p><p>That was the one big rule they’d grown up with.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t mess with the cops.</em>
</p><p>Honeymaren slammed the door shut that this thought wanted to open. She pushed it back, away, deeper into her mind where she could pretend she didn’t see it.</p><p>“Would you be able to start tomorrow?”</p><p>Honeymaren grinned – and froze. “Wait. Wha… You mean, you’re serious?”</p><p>Elsa arched a brow. “I do not joke about matters of business.”</p><p>She looked like a fucking queen.</p><p>Honeymaren tried to make her last remaining brain cells work. “I, uh…”</p><p>
  <em>Sorry, what was the question? Holy shit. How can anyone be so… so…?</em>
</p><p>Elsa had said something about the next day. Tomorrow.</p><p>“I have work tomorrow.”</p><p>
  <em>Wait, wait, wait. Did she… Did she really just ask me to be her fake-date slash bodyguard? Like, for real-real?</em>
</p><p>“But I could call in sick?”</p><p>
  <em>Whoa, what? Did you just say you want to jeopardize your job in order to make moony eyes at a woman you just met?</em>
</p><p>Honeymaren already knew it was a lost fight. Her brain was trying, yes, but at the same time it was calculating how many sick days she could manage to call in before her boss would get suspicious.</p><p>
  <em>Oh God, I am so done. </em>
</p><p>“So you are willing to do this? I’m happy to negotiate the details now – unless you are too tired?”</p><p>
  <em>Details. Negotiate.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What the fuck?!?</em>
</p><p>“I’m not tired.” Honeymaren shook her head, hoping to wake up a few more brain cells. She didn’t feel like it worked.</p><p>
  <em>I’m definitely dreaming. Oh, I need to tell Ryder about this. He’ll get a kick out of all the nonsense. </em>
</p><p>“Wonderful. If you could follow me…”</p><p>Elsa appeared to have forgotten about everything else, slipping seamlessly into what had to be her business persona. It was a little scary, a little stunning and incredibly sexy.</p><p>
  <em>No, no, no. We do NOT objectify women. We also don’t imagine them in a business suit, all relaxed and confident. </em>
</p><p>Honeymaren realized, a little belatedly, that she was in a strange house, with a person she knew nothing about. There also was no way to tell how many other people lived in that small palace – it was big enough to house an entire army.</p><p>
  <em>What if this is a setup?</em>
</p><p>Her eyes caught on swaying hips in front of her. And long, light hair in an elegant French braid.</p><p>
  <em>Oh well, at least I’ll die happily.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi guys, sorry for the long wait (in case anyone actually reads this, but hope dies last)! This blasted virus and its newly mutated strain got in the way of an earlier update (:<br/>I'm so anxious to get to the actual fluff (and action) part of it all, but I don't really believe in romance/love at first sight, so a tiny preface needs to be written. Things will pick up speed soon, I promise!<br/>Also, a slightly belated "Happy Holidays!" and a wonderful (less catastrophic) new year to everyone! Stay safe and healthy and don't let the world beat you down too much (especially if you're spending the holidays with not-so-supportive/understanding family).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>